


humble and whole

by kinpika



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Future Fic, Giant cotton balls and soft lights, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Snow machines, Where's your holiday spirit, paper snowflakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9197528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: For his part, Shiro keeps his eyes closed, even as he removes the blindfold. Slowly, but surely, he opens his eyes. Squints as he adjusts to the sudden light, Keith watches as sheer wonder falls over Shiro’s face, highlighted by pinks and blues, teeth showing as a grin forms. “Keith,” he sighs, taking in the paper snowflakes hanging from above. “This is incredible.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for [kessi](http://http://kessi-san.tumblr.com/) on tumblr for being an ANGEL and drawing nsfw of [seat of the lion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7563781) and i'm late for christmas and technically new years too but this is a combined gift and also just ???? thank you sweetheart honestly made my Year

In Keith’s mind, the end of the year is just another time of year. He doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but that may have been a general thing, the more he thinks about it. Back at the Garrison it wasn’t a big thing either. Mostly because all the other people in his unit went home for a fortnight, and he was forced to stay in the barracks for the holiday. Not that it bothered him, of course, no matter how much they apologised for the lack of family. Christmas was just another day — same with ‘ringing in the New Year’. Just him, his hoverbike and the desert for miles and miles.

Well, back _then_ at least. The last few years made everything _different,_ especially when it came to holidays. Shiro always said he didn’t mind, because it wasn’t the season for him either (growing up in the Garrison did something about that definitely). That wasn’t _it_ though. Something about the big fuss over holidays seemed _normal_ , and they were everything but that. Keith had to wonder if actually celebrating any day for once would give them back the normality they lost (especially since he never remembered his own birthday, and Shiro would rather ignore his).

Standing in front of a window in one of the nearby towns, Keith holds the week’s worth of groceries in both hands and sighs. On the vid screens, advertisements for a _White Christmas_ were showing. One of the few things living out in a desert didn’t allow for was snow. Keith himself had only ever seen the stuff on planets, almost a lifetime ago. Probably composed of things other than water, but they hadn’t ever really ventured into it. Just passed through it, onto the next place before they knew it. Definitely _pretty_ though, and it made him wonder what else he had missed despite being out in the big unknown. They had seen so much, and yet so little. So much adventure he could have had, so much more he could have seen, experienced, loved. 

But that was then. Now he and Shiro were settled into a quiet life that suited them both. Three dogs that Shiro was sure were simply wild, but had taken to him well, and slept out on the back porch like they owned the place. His recovery was going okay, but there were still moments where he moved his arm — _stump_ , the simple replacement — and expected everything before. Keith had taken to covering himself, now that the patches were more noticeable. Gaps in memory were nothing compared to explaining why a purple hue sat under his skin. Yet his eyes didn’t glow yellow, and Shiro’s had lost the dark, and that was all that mattered at the end of the day. At least, Hunk insisted that was the case. 

“Sir, can I help you?”

Keith blinks back into reality, noticing that he had been staring for a little too long. Shiro had helped him when it came to _human_ interaction, and Keith can feel the corners of his mouth turn up into what he hoped was an embarrassed smile. Whilst the man seemed a bit more relaxed (but only a bit), he didn’t leave the doorway. “Sorry,” Keith says, forcing some of that empathy into his voice Shiro insisted he should have. “Haven’t seen real snow in a long time.”

Maybe that was a relatable sentence, as the man smiles genuinely and motions to the window. “The unfortunate thing about living so far out, I suppose.” Keith could agree, but he wasn’t sure if he would like to live in the constant cold, the more he thought about it. Something on his face must have shown, as the man continues on with his thoughts. “At least there are machines now to replicate the snow. Or you could just watch an old holo.” He laughs, as if it’s some joke Keith should be in on. Forcing a laugh, Keith makes a motion to the bags, complaining how his partner at home wouldn’t like all the meat warm, probably, and finally the man waves him off. 

It’s not until Keith is out of the shopping centre, walking slowly towards the car he and Shiro had built out of scrap, that he finally stops. _Snow_ , of course. A beep forces him to cross the street, and he’s popping open doors and shoving bags in as he thinks. Angry driver or no, that wasn’t going to interrupt that thought process at all.

He could probably rig an old machine to work. It was just a matter of getting some space. Time. Help. Keith sighs as he moves to another gear, gliding across the open desert now towards their little house. Not that he wanted to bother, since he always felt like he was asking for too much these days. But Pidge and Hunk and even Lance went above and beyond, whatever was asked. Like they owed something to Shiro, or Keith, or the both of them. Keith never understood that, but he was afraid to question it. No, maybe ‘afraid’ wasn’t the right word. He spends the rest of the ride mulling over what it could be, and notes the lack of hoverbike as he pulls up.

Different. Shiro normally didn’t stray out on his own these days, not without taking the dogs. But there they were, waiting for Keith as he parked and pulled out the keys. Very ready to start sniffing at the bags as Keith makes his way to the door, fiddling with the handle as he went. Shiro liked to lock the doors, whilst Keith didn’t mind. All the way out here, Keith wasn’t sure if anyone even knew. They just appeared in the towns that existed around every so often. A steady filter of money into accounts thanks to services to the Garrison, plus reparation money and the occasional stint at a mechanic or security. Sometimes, but very rarely, Keith would get the request to pilot. Shiro’s face fell every time, when he thought Keith didn’t notice. But he saw, and even if he was encouraged to go out for a few days at a time, it hurt. 

Keith was never sure if he missed life years ago, early in the Garrison when he was still just a dumb student and Shiro was his senior, highly decorated but sweet. It was so simple back then, before Pluto, before being a Paladin, before that dark year, where he was so aware of everything around him that it drove him crazy, determined to find the energy signals. Going through the fridge was distraction enough, Keith thought, as he put the milk away, meat in the freezer. Cereal, he forgot the damn cereal. He’d go out tomorrow, they had bread for breakfast. They could live for another day. Shiro might be mad about no four in the morning cereal with milk, but then again he might finally sleep through the night.

“Shit,” he mumbles, as he lets himself fall back from his crouch onto his ass. Too busy thinking about nothing while he was shopping, he couldn’t even follow the list. And it was too much to hope that for once, they would get a good night’s sleep. There was just so much he could think about, more than he thought was possible. Who knew losing a good few months of memory would effect him the way it did? Keith had been told that there would be negative side effects, but this was going above and beyond.

Even if he felt safe with Shiro’s arm around him as he slept, Keith was always still waiting. Waiting for what, he didn’t know. But there was something out there. Shiro felt it too and that was comfort enough.

“You’re back early.”

He didn’t know when he had ended up completely horizontal on the kitchen floor, but Keith stared up at Shiro from where he lay, and from all angles Shiro was beautiful. Keith smiles a little at that thought, and Shiro steps around him, going for various things in various cupboards.

“I forgot the cereal,” Keith admits, when he manages to catch Shiro by the ankle, stilling him. He places a kiss there against the exposed skin, letting go only when Shiro moved again.

“It’s okay. I think I’ll manage.” Laughter, and Keith wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to be admonished for forgetting such a simple thing, but laughter was good too. Better, even, as it meant Shiro was _good_ today. Keith had been out early and didn’t see him wake to know what kind of mood he would be in when he got home. 

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith finds himself saying before he means to. Decides to keep going, full speed ahead with the train of thought, lest he forget it any time soon. “Do you remember the snow?”

Shiro hums, and Keith can easily take that as a ‘no’. He didn’t expect Shiro to remember, really, and he only vaguely remembered it anyway. That might’ve been around the time Shiro had to enter stasis just before things went down the shitter, the more Keith thought about it. His memory wasn’t as reliable as it used to be, but that was something to linger over another day.

“I’ve never been a big fan of the cold,” Shiro says easily, dropping to a crouch beside Keith. “Why the sudden interest? Want to go on a holiday?”

Never mind the fact that they seemed to be on an eternal ‘holiday’, Keith just shook his head. That’s not what he wanted at all. It was an idea in his mind, planted by holo vid advertising and a desperate need to do _something_. Keith was sure he wasn’t one for the holiday season, but staring up at Shiro — the bags under his eyes, how his hair was starting to grow out again, and how the brace on his shoulder was visible, peeking out from under his shirt — he knew. Plans started to form in Keith’s head, of how to get it done, and Shiro just continued on, easy and cool, whistling a jaunty tune he’d heard on some backwater planet during one of their later years.

“Is Pidge coming over for dinner this weekend?” Keith asks, once he finally picks himself up the floor.

Shiro had moved to what passed as a lounge room, voice carrying in the small space as he greets the dogs. “I think so? She said she wasn’t busy and in the area.”

‘In the area’ meant she was on the general route of observation, but Keith had long since gotten over that jab. At least it was people they knew coming in to check in on them, make sure they were still alive and well. And considering Shiro didn’t have Allura to fuss over him, Pidge and Hunk had stepped up, taking on responsibilities far out of Keith’s league. Keith could drive a few ships and forget the cereal, but they did the leg work where it mattered.

“Did you want me to call and double check?”

“No, it’s fine.” He’d ask for Lance’s opinion. Whilst Lance had never ceased to be a constant source of frustration, Keith couldn’t deny where Pidge and Hunk excelled at technicality, Lance had that certain edge of — well, he wouldn’t go so far as to call it _finesse_. That would be like asking for Lance to bug Keith to repeat himself until he died just so he could hear that word again. But Keith is reaching for the only working phone in the house, twirling a fractured cord around his fingers, and calling everyone himself.

As Shiro disappears out the back, rolling his joints as he went, Keith knew that it would work. And it would be awesome and Shiro would love it, and maybe he’d even smile a bit more, like he used to. Like back in the Garrison, just the two of them (Keith knew he smiled a lot more back then too, and he’d been trying for Shiro, but it was getting hard).

Lance doesn’t pick up until the fifth ring, slow and sleepy. _“‘ello?’”_ he yawns, giving Keith no sense of remorse as he looks up at the clocks above the fridge, noting what time it would be for him. 

“Lance, I want to ask you something.”

 _“Who—? Keith… it’s like, three a.m, dude—”_ a brief pause, inhale, and Keith can hear Lance push himself up probably too fast. _“Are you alright? Did something happen?”_

One day, Keith would not be considered irreparably fragile. But today was not that day, and he marched on regardless. “I need help.”

_“Like, serious help? Law help? Is Shiro okay? Oh, my god, Keith, like—”_

“Shiro is fine. I’m fine.” Mostly, he adds, but continues. “I just need your help with something.”

_“Are you sure this isn’t to do with breaking the law?”_

“I’m sure.”

 _“Somehow, I don’t believe you. But go on, I’m awake_ now _.”_ And even if he was grumpy, Lance would get over it. His sudden and urgent panic would’ve definitely woken him up, long enough for him to provide something in the way of an answer. If Keith had to guess, Lance was probably relieved that nothing had gone wrong since his last random call.

Taking a deep breath, Keith had to wonder how to phrase such a request in less words than he wanted to say. Awkwardness filled him, left him gaping for a few moments, until he pushed on. Do it for Shiro, Keith tells himself. “I want it to snow.” A few wires must’ve been crossed between his mouth and his brain, causing Keith to let his head meet the palm of his hand. 

Lance is quiet for a full minute. And then, utter laughter, heard even as Keith held the phone away from his ear. Typical, so utterly typical. Keith’s cheeks burned. Lance laughed on.

 _“I’m sorry!”_ he finally hears, in between heavy breaths. _“Just — Keith, buddy — I can’t make it_ snow _.”_

The ‘not anymore’ goes unsaid, just another implication of another life; Keith moves on. “I didn’t mean that.”

 _“I know. I think. But…_ snow _? What are you even talking about?”_

“Shiro doesn’t remember the snow from that one planet.”

_“Oh, yeah, the one with the giant bear—”_

“Dog—”

_“—Things with a hundred teeth and tentacles?”_

“They weren’t tentacles.”

_“Doesn’t matter. But, Keith… why?”_

“Christmas? I guess.”

Lance huffs, movement coming through the line suggesting he had really gotten out of bed now. Another time, he might’ve made a gripe about being really old now, too old for getting out of bed before noon, but he kept those comments to himself. Maybe he cared enough to not derail Keith from explaining, or maybe he had exhausted his daily amount of complaints already.

_“Do you want a holiday or something?”_

“No. Shiro doesn’t… want to go anywhere. Not just yet.”

_“So, what? Keith, you have to talk to me, buddy.”_

It’s hard to find words. Tough to explain. Keith closes his eyes, draws up nothing but blanks, releases the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “There were these snow machines…”

 _“Yeah…?”_ Lance leads, encouraging Keith with the probing noise he makes. Sounds like he’d made it to the fridge by now.

“In town, there was an advertisement for them. I could probably make one but—” I need help, Keith thinks, words on the tip of his tongue. Lance remains quiet, and Keith knows it is taking everything for Lance not to egg him on over it. Sighing, Keith stops messing with the phone cord, and sucks it up. “I need your help.”

 _“Those are the words I wanted to hear.”_ He’s smiling, and there’s no hint of maliciousness in him. _“Alright, lay it on me. What do you need?”_

“Snowflakes, I guess? Or… giant cotton balls or—” Keith releases a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know!”

 _"Keith, it's fine. Don't stress. I have a_ vision _in my mind.”_ Lance even pauses for dramatic effect at the emphasis on ‘vision’. Keith has to laugh a little at that, at least. _“I'll figure it out. And tell Shiro I’ll be around next week.”_

“Okay. Thanks, Lance.”

 _“Any time. Well, I mean, at a_ better _time.”_

“Yeah, sorry.”

There’s laughter and reassurances, Lance so different from their early days. Maybe it was a slight amount of envy at how much he had matured ( _had to_ mature) since then, but Keith thanks him once more. Honestly and seriously, hanging up the phone just as Lance finally starts to yawn. As if on cue, Shiro walks back into the room, dogs nipping at his heels.

“Who was that?”

“Lance. Says he’ll be over next week.”

“Sounds good.”

As Shiro walks past, he stoops to press his lips firmly to the top of Keith’s head. A good idea, Keith thinks, and follows Shiro to the kitchen, ready for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> splitting into 2 parts to make it flow better...


	2. Chapter 2

It was perfect. Keith wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and smiles for the first time in a long time. “I owe you big time,” he promises, looking over at Pidge and trying very hard not to let his smile wobble. “You have no idea.”

Pidge smiles, easy and genuine, as she nudges Keith in the side. “You can play guinea pig for me, ‘kay? Just, take it easy with the machines. Don’t amp them up too much.”

Despite the question that must have sat on his face about what Pidge would need with a snow machine, Keith doesn’t ask. Better he didn’t know, as he held his hand out once more, letting little crystals fall into his palm. They weren’t cool per say — that was the addition of the fans — but they _were_ pretty. Taking in the room, Keith could feel his eyes well again, that they actually went to the extent they did for this. 

“Thank you.” Keith just feels like he has to say it once more, like it wouldn’t be enough if he didn’t.

“Shame we didn’t get organised in time for Christmas,” Hunk says as he walks over, wiping his hands on a cloth. “Still pretty cool.”

“If it’s a day late, Shiro won’t mind,” Pidge points out, one last look over the machines. “Now we’re just waiting on Lance, then you’re free to do whatever it is you wanna do.” 

Keith smiles at that, looking over to where Lance was very meticulously spreading paper snowflakes, and fluffing up extra large cotton balls. To say he had gone the extra mile was an understatement. Whilst Pidge had been handy enough to help over the weekend, it was Lance who called Hunk to help just that little more. An old shipping container, one that sat not too far from their house with a few dozen others, was the base of operations. Far less rusty, and definitely more stable. Hunk had been in since the morning, setting up screens and lights. Things Keith hadn’t even considered.

As Pidge wanders over to see if Lance was just about done, Keith takes a moment to step over to Hunk. Dropping to a crouch, Keith listens closely as Hunk runs over the functions, just once more, just in case, tapping buttons for different colours and different music. Even though it was starting to get a little over Keith’s head, Hunk seemed to know what he wanted, down to at least six hours worth of music drudged up from corners of the Earth (and quite possibly beyond). 

“So this one will keep the snow machines down to a minimum.”

“Okay.”

“Just so you don’t… freeze anything off.” Hunk waves his hand dismissively, and Keith blinks before he blushes darkly. 

“We’re not—”

“Don’t lie. Statistically, you wouldn’t be the only people around this time of year who—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.”

Hunk laughs, a friendly slap to Keith’s back as he doesn’t quite finish. “Just be safe. All that stuff. Remember you can say ‘no’.”

“Who is saying ‘no’?”

Keith makes a noise, high in the back of his throat, as Lance and Pidge appear behind them. Maybe they were all secretly conspiring against him now, and Keith wasn’t sure if he would honestly blame them. But this was crossing into a field he wasn’t sure he was willing to go. Pidge doesn’t linger on it, even if Lance pokes and prods, and danger passes as Hunk keeps on laughing. “Nothing, don’t worry. Are you done yet, Lance?”

“Yep. Everything’s set up over there. The mattress is out and everything, if you wanna use it.”

“Oh.” If he was being honest, there was no real response Keith could give to how they were all being so shockingly cavalier about that particular aspect. Not like it was an expected thing in his and Shiro’s relationship, regardless. And definitely something he hadn’t considered, really, but Keith misses the rest of the conversation, and walks towards the entrance with them.

“Thank you,” he says, again. Hopes they understand truly, even if the embarrassment still sits on his face, a permanent red against the growing amount of freckles. 

They do, but Lance gives him a knock to the shoulder and Pidge makes a face at some suggestion and Hunk, well, Hunk actually hugs him. Wishes him well for the holidays, and reassures him that they’ll all be around for the New Year. 

“Oh, and Keith? Tell Shiro you did this by yourself.” Pidge smiles knowingly as she speaks, like she was on another plane of wisdom. Keith just nods, as he didn’t know what else to say. No doubt they’d pass by the house on the way back, but Shiro wasn’t expected to be home until after sunset, and Keith had to ready himself for anything.

He waits, until the dust over the hills disappear, Garrison vehicle taking away his three best friends, before he slips onto his bike and heads in the opposite direction. Time was something he had, but not much of it. Several different ways of how things could go ran through his head, and Keith nearly burns his hand on the stovetop as he prepares dinner. 

“Keith! Are you alright?!”

Shiro is before him, home before he was supposed to be, hand fussing over Keith as he goes to the tap. Cold water does the trick, even if he tells Shiro so. Damn, there was still some things he wanted to do. But he would get food in Shiro, then get him on the back of the bike, and he’d be ready (would he?). Even if Keith tells Shiro he’s fine, it takes some effort to get him to set the table, to just relax and not feel like he had to do everything. 

Dinner is awkward and quiet, Keith fiddling with the cutlery, eyes on the clock. Shiro finishes his entire plate, probably not tasting anything in particular, and cleans up. A few more minutes, and then Keith would pounce. In his pocket, he fiddles with a piece of fabric, and hopes this works.

“Hey, Shiro?”

“Yeah?”

Shiro is halfway through turning the taps on, ready to start dishes, when Keith walks into their kitchen. Bad timing. Don’t stop now. “I want to show you something.”

The water goes off, and Shiro looks at him so curiously that Keith almost withers under the look. But his back stays straight, fingers clench around the material, voice stays steady. “I need you to come somewhere with me.”

Eyes flick up to the clocks, brows raising as Shiro notes the time. “Now?”

“Please.”

“Alright…”

It was easy enough to get him to leave the dishes and out to the bike. The hardest part was pulling the blindfold out of his pockets, holding it up for Shiro to see. “It’s a surprise,” Keith says, not quite looking Shiro in the eye. Even if Shiro says nothing, there’s a certain amount of hesitance in him as he takes it. “It won’t be for long,” Keith says, trying to soothe some part of Shiro that no doubt was on the attack. Keith knows what Shiro was feeling, as he was sure it would be the same for him.

Shiro’s arms are around his waist the entire ride, side of his face pressed into Keith’s back. It’s only about halfway into the ride that Keith remembers ‘helmets’, but he moves on faster than he should. If anything, Shiro would feel some consolation that he could get cranky about road rules later — like tomorrow, even — and Keith could feel some achievement on what happened that night.

“Can’t see yet can you?” Keith finally asks, once they pull up by the containers. Apparently, Lance had even gone to extra lengths to spray paint the outside, and Keith didn’t want to linger on some of the cruder drawings to the left of the door.

“I’m sure.” Just barely, there’s a smile forming on Shiro’s lips. As Keith helps him get off the bike, he has to take a moment just to breathe, and ready himself. 

“Okay, I’ll lead you.”

Making sure the blindfold was fixed, Keith leads Shiro in by the hand. “Are you sure you can’t see?” he asks, just once more, nerves making him nearly miss the step.

“I’m positive,” Shiro reassures him, again, smile on his face growing. “Are we nearly there?”

Keith lets his hand go, opening the doors maybe a little too enthusiastically, torch between his teeth as he grunts. The “Keith?” goes unanswered, and Keith gets his hands on Shiro again, leading him in. Torch ends up to the side, off and unnecessary for now, Shiro in the centre of the room. Ready for the reveal. 

“Okay,” Keith breathes, palms sweatier than normal. “Ready.”

For his part, Shiro keeps his eyes closed, even as he removes the blindfold. Slowly, but surely, he opens his eyes. Squints as he adjusts to the sudden light, Keith watches as sheer wonder falls over Shiro’s face, highlighted by pinks and blues, teeth showing as a grin forms. “Keith,” he sighs, taking in the paper snowflakes hanging from above. “This is incredible.”

And it was. Whilst Keith wanted to say he did it all, just like they had told him to, he bit his tongue. That wasn’t fair. Instead, he simply watches Shiro walk around, reaching out to touch the screens, pulling his fingers away at the sudden cold.

“What—?”

“You don’t remember the snow from a few years ago. And… we never see snow out here. So, I… brought the snow to you?” It sounded so corny, and Keith had spent the entire ride back to their house practicing what he would say into his rearview mirror, but the words were finally off his chest.

Shiro _laughs_. And it’s his rich sort of belly laugh, the kind that disappeared years ago, spilling from his lips as he wraps his arms around Keith. Words are mixed in with his laughter, but it’s all lost on Keith as he can feel his eyes burn at the sound. For the first time in a long time, Shiro was laughing, and it was sweet and loud and all around him, echoing again and again. Keith hugs him back fiercely, a mumbled “I’m glad you like it,” leaving him, mushed against the soft cotton covering Shiro’s chest.

“I _love_ it.”

It had been — _well_ , it had been such a long time since Shiro had kissed him so fiercely, Keith hadn’t realised how much he had missed it. In the back of his mind, there were all sorts of terms about diminished sex drive and lack of enthusiasm, but Shiro’s tongue was in his mouth for the first time in months, and Keith had had enough of being all clinical. He could worry about lowered sex drives and repercussions later, when Shiro wasn’t lowering him onto the mattress, pressing him in.

“You don’t have to,” Keith says, when he finally manages to come up for air. After all, it wasn’t himself he was worried about — it was Shiro.

Deep and dark, were Shiro’s eyes. Happy, despite it all. “Let me have you tonight, please.” And oh so earnest in the response, glittering as Keith lets out a shuddering breath. 

“ _Always_.”

Keith was thankful for cotton shirts and pants with no buttons. For Shiro’s old man shoes that landed somewhere over to the left, and his penchant for no socks. How he wore a thousand year old underwear on his off day, that slipped easily from his hips and ended up balled to the right. How he was beautiful and strong above Keith, years of wear no longer shame to be hidden. But those scars had been traversed a hundred times, and Keith wore jeans with boots a size too big, and Shiro was a little too excited.

Truthfully, Keith wasn’t sure of the last time he had seen Shiro like this. Maybe, once after a sparring session? A few times in between? Seeing as his life had almost been consumed by the last few months and not much else, it was hard to remember. But Shiro wasn’t a person to be denied, especially not ever by Keith, and he’s kicking off his pants and underwear as fast as he can.

Shiro hadn’t stopped kissing him, like it was their first time all over again. That much Keith remembered, a specific point in their relationship where things changed. A turning point of sweat and blood and skin. Post battle adrenaline forcing them into each other. Shiro had nearly died (or maybe it had been Keith), and neither could put off the inevitable any longer.

They came crashing together, an explosion a little greater than anything ever felt, and Keith is digging half moons into Shiro’s shoulders as fingers spread him wider. The bottle is on it’s side, threatening to leak a little dangerously onto the mattress, and Keith stares up at the ceiling, the snow above, exactly like the glassy ones that decorated the magazines, falling down towards them. Catch on his skin and melt into the burn of their mixed breath, eyes squeezed shut at the “Keith, _come_ ,” a command like no other. 

Keith traces melted flakes down the sides of Shiro’s face, mixing with sweat as he lines himself up, pumping thick and heavy into his own hand. The focus on Shiro’s face makes a joke rise to the tip of Keith’s tongue, lost into the moan as he is filled to the brim. So long. It had been so long since they had been like this. It was not an endpoint in their relationship, and not truly a beginning. A change and a chance and a star gone supernova. Pops behind his eyes lids as Shiro grunts, groans. 

Never very vocal but his name is clear, despite the white light making him think he’s somewhere else. Is that his name? Keith thinks, as it sounded so different the way Shiro moans it out, dragging each letter. Rinse and repeat. 

“Takashi,” Keith sighs, liquid and soft and a hand on Shiro’s cheek as his eyes slide shut. Shiro presses into the palm of his hand, keeping the contact, even as he leans down, pressing open mouthed kisses along Keith’s chest.

“I love you.” That too, had been something unheard for far too long. “Thank you for everything.” 

It’s like a tectonic plate shift, a sudden jar in his entire soul, and Keith can only nod. Words are not his strong point, Shiro knows that much, so Keith hopes and prays that he understands when the most he can do is wrap his arms around Shiro, and hold him.

 

“Hey, Takashi?”

“Mmm?”

“Merry Christmas.” Keith can feel the muscles in his face tighten, as he remembers that he was a little late on that part. 

Shiro laughs, and looks over at him, easy and sweet. “Happy New Year, Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still, i have only written pwp for sheith. disgraceful.
> 
> anyway i'm late for the season but u kno w/e pls enjoy


End file.
